


Tax Evasion

by pumpkin_kitty_kat (orphan_account)



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Comedy, Explicit Language, Fake Character Death, Funeral, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Tax evasion, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 07:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19825591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/pumpkin_kitty_kat
Summary: What do you do when you don't feel like paying your taxes anymore? Why, you fake your own death of course! Don't tell anybody, though. That'd make it less dramatic.________________________________________________(Rated T for swearing).Based on this "imagine your OTP" I saw on tumblr by @some-textposts:Person A, at B’s funeral: Can I have a moment alone with them?Person C: Of course *leaves*Person A, leaning over B’s coffin: Now listen, I know you’re not dead.Person B: Yeah no shit(I orphaned this work due to undisclosed reasons. If you'd still like to find my AO3 I'm under pumpkin_kitty_kat)





	Tax Evasion

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is just something to let you all know that I am NOT, in fact, dead. I've just been really busy lately, and new chapters for Illicit in Harlem will come out soon enough, for those of you who have been waiting. It is FAR from abandoned, college courses are just l i k e t h a t when you're taking them over the summer (and ESPECIALLY when the course you're taking is a heavy science-based chem course (there's lot of labs and homework to fill out, it's like doing paperwork)).
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! I started and finished it just this evening, and I just kind of wrote it on a whim so hopefully it's not too bad.

It had been one of the nicest days they’d had all summer. The sun had shone awfully bright, but it wasn’t dreadfully warm, beating down on the back of their necks let it had been every other day. Instead, it was gentle, tender and loving, bestowing the softest shred of mercy for the first time in a long time. And aside from the fleeting cloud or two, the sky was nothing but a vast, intimidating void of blue. Looking up at it, it was easy to feel minute compared to the grand wonder of things. The birds chirped their lazy summer song and kids enjoyed the time off from school by laughing and playing in the streets. In nearly every sense of the word, it was a perfect day.

And it was  _ incredibly _ unbefitting for the scene laid out before a certain scientist.

There had to be a thousand people present,  _ at least _ . The exact number was unknown to Flug because, although it was  _ supposed _ to be a private event, word spread hastily and many uninvited people showed up to attend. Enough that security just simply couldn’t keep up and people slipped through. And although the sound outside was loud and boisterous, festering like a rejected wound on an unhealed scar, everyone who actually made it in promptly fell silent. Some shut their mouth out of sheer horror and shock that  _ the rumours were true _ , others became speechless from pure disbelief. The rest simply sat in confusion, left at a loss of how to react.

  
Either way, the noise and presence of thousands of overbearing, physical bodies, all with eyes analyzing and absorbing and  _ thinking  _ was starting to get to Flug, and so he simply muttered, barely above a whisper but easy to hear since it was the only voice in the overcrowded hall, “Can I have a moment with him?” He paused for a moment, before stressing, “ _ Alone _ ?”

And that was that.

Demencia simply glanced over to him in her extravagant, pure-black gown for a moment, studying the look on his face that indicated he was deep in thought, before she uttered an “Of course,” and quickly ushered everyone out of the hall. There were a few who protested for a bit (they were quickly shot down by the lizard girl), but thankfully most seemed to understand what was happening and were respectful enough to leave. The bear, bless his heart, hovered around his creator for a little longer, before wrapping his arms around him in a quick good-bye hug and left the room.

Now, it was just them.

The bright sun from outside glowed elegantly through the red-tinted windows, the light they cast warm yet ominous. The long, scarlet carpet laid all the way down the hall beckoned the doctor forward to what lay at the very end of it, to confront the problem he now faced. Flug slowly walked over to the lavish coffin placed before him, decorated in black and silken reds, adorned with jewels that simply couldn’t be of this world. It was closed, and as far as Flug was concerned he was the only one who knew why.

He reached out and rested his hand atop the coffin, before boldly calling out into the silence, “Sir, with all due respect, I know you’re not dead.”

A beat of tense silence passed.

“Yeah, no shit.” Was all the response he received, muffled from within the walls of the coffin.

“...So?” He spoke after a moment, unsure of how to proceed with the situation.

“So?” Was echoed right back at him, an invitation for him to continue his thought process.

“ _ Why _ did you do this? Fake your own death, I mean.” Flug clarified, clenching and unclenching his hands while letting his eyes wander, undecided about what to do with his limbs at the present moment.

“Well, Flug,” Black Hat talked to Flug condescendingly, as though the answer was obvious, “If I’m legally  _ dead _ they can’t  _ tax me _ , can they?”

“That…” Flug paused for a moment, completely taken aback. “ **_Tax evasion_ ** ?!?!?” He exclaimed. “You’re telling me all this was about…  _ tax evasion _ ? I- wait, you paid taxes?”

Black Hat cackled, seemingly utterly delighted with himself. “ _ Not anymore~! _ ”

Flug sighed, unsurprised but still somehow caught off guard. “You’re unbelievable. Completely and utterly unbelievable.”

“Sure, sure.” Black Hat bantered, seemingly not having listened to a word he said. “Now can you open this damned casket? It’s  _ dreadfully _ musky in here. Oh! And another note: If, by some miracle, I ever  _ did _ manage to perish by unspecified means, should you bury me in this _ bloody coffin _ I would drag you down into the throes of the abyss _**with me.**_ ”

“Duly noted, sir,” Flug tiredly replied, as he grabbed what he could use to pry off the nails. He  _ had _ brought his small tool kit with him that he uses to work on his projects while on trips. You know, just in case. That should work. “And sir?”

“Yes?”

“What about the business?” Flug finished prying off the first nail, a loud ‘pop’ ringing out.

“Why, I felt that should’ve been obvious, Flug! You’ll ‘inherit’ the business while  **_I_ ** continue running it from the inside. Death and tragedy make for  _ excellent _ publicity, you know. Our sales should skyrocket!”

“For  _ a while _ .” Flug critically commented. He was at least a few nails in now. “What about when people move on, sir?”

“I think it  _ awfully _ bold of you to assume that I didn’t think that far ahead, Flug.” Black Hat acted like he was offended, but in truth was more than happy to brag about what was, in his eyes, a brilliant plan. “Someone presumed deceased abruptly coming back from the dead? That’d make for even  _ greater _ publicity! Drama  _ sells _ , doctor.”

“So it does, sir.” The scientist nodded his head in agreement, even if his boss currently was unable to see it. “And the ‘tax evasion’ part?”

“They can’t do anything about a man that’s  _ legally _ **dead** , Flug.”

“Of course they can’t, sir,” Flug replied, smiling to himself while shaking his head, still in total disbelief at the whole situation. 

“Flug?” A voice called out through the large hall doors.

Flug started for a moment before stowing away his tools and the nails as swiftly as he could, assuming a position that made it look like he was grieving over Black Hat’s coffin. No sooner had he gotten into place did the door open to reveal Demencia peeking into the hall.

“Is everything alright in here? Fives said he heard strange noises.”

Flug jumped as if he was surprised to hear her, before bringing his hands to his eyes as if he was desperately trying to wipe away tears and get himself together.

“Oh, I,” Demencia began, clearly embarrassed, “I’ll just… give you a moment.” The door promptly shut, silence consuming the hall once more. 

Flug deeply sighed after a moment, before picking up his tools once more and getting back to work on the coffin. “Will I be getting a raise for this?” Flug desperately asked. If he had to play the role of the heartbroken widow for 2+ years, he (at the very least) hoped to get some form of compensation.

“No.”

“Of course, sir,” Flug replied, “I expected nothing less.”


End file.
